Mashed Parsnips
by gjnnypotter
Summary: Christmas Day, 1996. What happened after the Minister and Harry’s argument? A HBP Missing Moment, written for thebiwholived for the Incognito Elf exchange on the Harry/Ginny discord server.


**I wrote this for the Hinny Discord server Incognito Elf exchange for thebiwholived - aka one of my favourite fanfic authors ever! I had great fun writing this for her, as HBP Hinny is my favourite time to write about! There are some stronger themes in this though, so please read with caution. I hope you all have a very happy holiday**

The day had started out brilliantly. So brilliantly that he should have known, really, that it wouldn't stay that way for long. Things never did when he was around.

The feast that Mrs Weasley had cooked up for lunch had been ruined by the arrival of Percy with none other than the Minister himself. It made him feel sick, knowing that the rogue Weasleys arrival was conducted by Scrimgeour in an attempt to get to him, that the manipulative move was made against the family because of him being in their home; and most of all, that their familial love had been taken advantage of. Because of him.

_Couldn't resist dropping in my arse_, he thought bitterly. He had returned to the kitchen earlier on to be met by the sight of Percy standing stiffly with mashed parsnips flowing like a stream of lava down his face before he spun on his heel and stormed out after the Minister - all while Mrs Weasley sobbed into her gravy stained apron. His guilt-filled gaze had swept over their faces taking in each one in great detail - Ron, incandescent with rage, had been standing with his hands balled into fists; Bill, his handsome face twisted into one mirroring his shock; Mr Weasley, Fred and George all glowing a bright, furious red.

But it had been Ginny's expression that made him almost double over. It had been hers that made him stutter a whispered apology and run. She had stared her brother down with something akin to resentment in her eyes, with her brow so narrowed that it made that stare appear even more intense. Her fiery hair rippled slightly as her shoulders rose and fell with each breath she took, her spoon clenched in her white-knuckled grip as a thick, pale substance dripped from it onto the floor. It wasn't that hard for him to put two and two together.

It wasn't this, though, that had made his gut twist as though a knife had been plunged into it.

It was when everyone at the table had turned to look at him instead of at each other that she had dropped her eyes to the table and her lip had quivered. It was that one small wobble when she thought no one had been watching that had made his chest clench to the point he had to bite his lip to force down the whimper that was oh-so desperate to slip past his lips.

So here he was now - sitting on his bed while staring out of the window, completely surrounded by orange and feeling like shit. He ran his hand through his hair with a deep sigh, his eyes monitoring the progress of a small snowflake that floated gently down from the grey sky.

The hand that was raking through his hair slowly made its way to his forehead. His fingers lightly traced the jagged scar on his forehead. Something stirred inside him, the same something that he had felt last year when he thought he was being possessed. Self-loathing. He knew it wasn't just a figment of his imagination, but a fact that whoever he grew to love would suffer.

Him being here was selfish. He couldn't stay. He was Harry Potter. The Chosen One with a target on his back, and while that target was still there - he was a danger to everyone around him. He was a liability. Lying to himself and pretending that everything was ok wasn't an option anymore. He had to face the cold hard truth - he was alone. Sirius dying because of him had put the nail in the coffin. Even the mere thought of his godfather struck a blade of grief through his heart, and no matter how often Hermione prompted him to speak about him - Harry couldn't. He'd rather swallow sand than speak about him. But he'd never admit that out loud.

It hurt.

He winced at the sharp pain in his scar, panicking before taking note of the congealed blood underneath his fingernails. He stood up and paced, wringing his hands, suddenly wanting to be anywhere but The Burrow. He had to get out.

_Don't be stupid_, piped up the rational voice in his head, _what would that achieve, you've tried it before - remember?_

He kicked the leg of Ron's desk in frustration, then immediately regretted it as a fresh wave of pain jolted his toe. Swearing, he dropped back down onto the bed, sneering at the poster of Dragomir Gorgovitch who smiled down at him, carefree and winking.

Wanker.

The faint sound of voices and footsteps from the kitchen wafted up from the bottom floor, but Harry couldn't find it in himself to join them. He felt exhausted. Drained. Since when had simply getting through each day become so hard? Sometimes he felt like falling asleep, and maybe not waking up again. It was a dangerous thought, he knew that, but it would be kinder than the alternative that had been spelt out for him by the prophecy. And it would bring some level of control back into his life because right now, it felt like he had none. It felt like his voice was lost in amongst the calling of war, and the path that had been laid out for him by Dumbledore wasn't so much as a path as it were a cage he was trapped in.

And he'd be with Sirius again.

He gave himself a mental shake, pushing his glasses up and sluggishly scrubbing his hands over his face. A quick glance at the clock on the wall told him it was nearing two, and another glance out of the window showed him that the snow was still gently sailing down in intricate swirling patterns.

What a Merry-bloody-Christmas.

He turned back from facing the window, fully intending on lying down and having an impromptu nap when a photo fell directly into his line of sight. It was of the Weasley family when they were in Egypt. He remembered, fondly, Ron waving that blasted newspaper clipping around for weeks at the start of their third year, shoving it into the faces of whoever would look. But it was the red face of the girl in the middle of the shot that was burned into his mind even when he forced his eyes shut.

Ginny.

Even when she plucked that maggot out of his hair his stomach had fluttered. He couldn't face her though, or her family for that matter, not after that mess at lunch. Not after they had been used by a man of the highest authority just because he, Harry, was in their home. The indignant crease of her brow and the way she had forced herself together made him feel as if he were about to break apart.

It was with these thoughts that a soft, yet firm knock rang through the room.

'Harry?'

Speak of the devil.

He scrambled up off of the bed and tugged down the sleeves of the jumper he was wearing, exhaling through his nose as he opened the door.

'Ginny.'

She looked beautiful standing there, framed by the door as she gently rolled her sleeves up, a soft expression gracing her features. He was sure that Ron would hit him if he were to see inside his head. Harry swung the door open a bit wider, and she stepped into the room. The glaring orange on the walls appeared dull next to her hair which appeared to be ablaze as it swept like a pendulum across her back before settling as she sat on her brother's bed. He sat on his own bed opposite her, shifting as her chocolatey stare penetrated him like an X-ray.

'Ron was going to come up and get you, but then mum brought out more Christmas pudding and… well, you know how he is. I swear that stomach of his could still be heard through about half a dozen silencing charms.' She shrugged with a smirk.

'Does his stomach ever stop rumbling?' Harry asked coyly.

'No, I don't suppose it does.'

The freckles by her lips shifted as she smiled. They were hypnotising, reminiscent of the stars scattered across the sky.

Ginny leaned forward, her right hand coming up subconsciously to massage her earlobe as she spoke, 'Lunch wasn't your fault. I know you think it was.' She said bluntly, cutting right to the chase.

'How can you say that? The only reason Scrimgeour came was to speak to me.' Harry said, confused.

'Yes,' she spoke slowly, both hands coming to rest on her knees, 'but you didn't ask him to, did you? And you didn't ask him to bring that git with him. It's not your fault they came and did that, its that joke of a Minister's.'

Her belittling of the Minister was like music to his ears, but it failed to distract him from the heavy pressure on his chest. Harry shook his head, breath catching as he saw her frown, 'If I wasn't here, then that wouldn't have happened. It would be better if I just… I don't know… left. You would all be better off if you didn't know me. I bring what's going on out there-' he gestured vaguely to the window, '- so much closer to you. You'd all be safer if I weren't around.'

'Oh?' Ginny said simply, a single dark eyebrow quirking in what looked like mirth, 'That's the biggest pile of shit I've heard in a long time.'

'What?'

'You heard me.'

He was confused. Really bloody confused. And that pointed look she was giving him wasn't helping. He looked back blankly.

'What was it that you said? We'd be so much safer if you weren't around? Need I remind you of last year? Without you, my dad would be dead. And I would be too, don't forget.' She said the last part quietly, the mirth fading out from her voice.

'I didn't.'

Her eyes bored into his, their soft brown appearing darker to him in the dark grey light from the clouds. He couldn't tear his eyes away.

He didn't want to.

Years could have passed for all Harry knew. It was as though time had ground to halt. He saw nothing but her, cared about nothing other than her in that moment. The tight coil of guilt that had wrapped itself around him was loosening, and the fact that he could breathe again went unnoticed as they shared a connection that detailed more than words could ever illustrate.

It was a thud from downstairs that eventually snapped them out of their joint reverie. He felt hot, even though the snow was slowly piling up on the windowsill outside. She looked perfectly composed though, breaking into a grin as she stood up and stopped in front of him.

'Now - that's enough moping for today, you've used up your daily limit.'

'Have I really? I was hoping to get another few minutes in.'

Ginny shook her head loftily, crossing her arms as she sauntered to the door, 'No can do I'm afraid. It's Christmas after all, we can't have you holed up in here all afternoon.'

Harry stood up too. He would rather be downstairs with the Weasleys, there was no point in denying it to himself. One in particular. And though the guilt hadn't fully dissipated, he couldn't trouble them any further by wallowing.

If that reason hadn't been enough, the way her eyes lit up when she saw him stand certainly was.

'If we hurry there might be some pudding left.' She said as she pulled open the door.

'I doubt that, not if Ron's been at it.'

'I'm sure Mum will have more. She'll have taken precautions.'

They trekked down the stairs, Harry admiring the way Ginny's feet lightly danced around the creaky steps. The sounds of the wireless and incomprehensible chatter began to crescendo as they neared the sitting room.

'Finally,' Said Ron thickly through a bite of what looked like a mince pie, 'I was about to come up and get you myself.'

'Sit down dear and help yourself, there's still plenty left over.' Mrs Weasley said kindly, but Harry was disconcerted to see how bloodshot her eyes were. He looked around as a small hand lightly touched his arm, trailing after her as Ginny pulled him over to the table and snatched up a mince pie, staring at him as she took a ridiculously sized bite.

Harry snorted as she struggled to chew, dodging a playful smack that she aimed at his chest. Her hand was covering her mouth as she attempted to stop the overflowing crumbs from escaping past her fingers. Her muffled laughs were endearing.

'Eyes bigger than your stomach?' He asked her when she finally swallowed.

'No, I don't think so. Got there eventually, didn't I?' She said with playful cockiness as she wiped her hands on her thighs.

They joined Ron and the rest of the Weasleys, as well as Lupin and Fleur, plopping down onto the sofa next to the tree, the gnome still glaring down at them from its perch on the top. They spoke of nonsense, the aching feeling that had burdened him earlier on receding as he sat in between Ron and Ginny underneath the colourful paper-chained ceiling.

'...and then by the time we got there, the poor Muggles had been cornered by them! A right old palaver it caused, the Obliviators had their work cut out for them. This was a few years back, mind you.'

'Merlin, that's genius. We could capitalise on this, people would love them. And of course we could modify them so that they aren't quite as bloodthirsty.' Fred murmured to George who was nodding enthusiastically, both of them ignoring their mother's tuts.

'I still don't understand.' exclaimed Ron

'Were you not listening, Won-Won? The Muggles were attacked by a swarm of random, weird looking, small metal things, and Dad and Perkins had to set them to rights. It's not that hard to get.'

'I got that part thanks-' He rolled his eyes, '-I just don't understand why someone would charm something so stupid. A biting toaster I can understand, but why use something small and pointless like that to cause trouble when you could use something so much more impressive, you know what I mean?' He finished. The rest of them all nodded, amused.

'One of the Obliviators said that they were actually muggle game pieces. I think he said they were from a board game called "Monotily". I was thinking of going out to find it so we could play it today.'

'Do you mean Monopoly, Mr Weasley?' Harry asked smiling, sipping on his eggnog.

Mr Weasley tipped his glass of fire whiskey at him, the amber liquid close to sloshing over the rim, 'That's the one, Harry.'

'I remember the Dursley's playing it once.' He said with a wistful sigh.

'Only the one time?' Ginny asked. The large, pink sequin hat she got from the cracker she pulled with him was tipping precariously to the side.

'Yeah. The first time they played it Dudley was so angry that he went bankrupt that he swiped the pieces onto the floor and then stomped on the board until it snapped.'

'And you're smiling about that?'

'It was rather funny,' He shrugged, 'and I managed to hide the little pieces without anyone noticing so I could play with them later. The dog was my favourite.'

Ron laughed, as did Fred and George. Ginny laughed too, a loud laugh that forced her to put her eggnog down as she clutched her stomach. Harry's stomach fluttered pleasantly, and he found himself joining them.

'How about a good old family game of Kappas and Kelpies while we wait for tea?'

'We just had lunch a few hours ago, you pig!' Ginny shot at Ron.

'And in a few hours from now, I'll be ready for tea.' Harry and Ginny shared an exasperated look as Ron left in search of the game.

'Fred, George - careful before your mother sees.' Mr Weasley spoke lowly, throwing cautious looks at Mrs Weasley who had disappeared through to the kitchen. But the twins continued chuckling; Fred miming launching something at George, who in turn had the most ridiculous expression of utmost disgust on his face. Harry felt as though he knew exactly which scene it was they were recreating.

'What the hell do you think you're doing?' Ginny snapped. The twins froze.

'You need to put more oomph into your fling Fred. That amount of effort wouldn't get it anywhere. More like this-' She sprang up off of the sofa and closed one eye, flicking her wrist expertly to ping the imaginary substance through the air, '-you see?' Harry laughed at the display.

'That was some good aim you had by the way. You got him right on the glasses - that'll be hard to get off.' He nodded at her, and her cheeks turned slightly pink. It was probably a trick of the light.

'I've honestly never felt anything as satisfying as chucking mashed parsnips at that prick's face. Not even getting the quaffle through the hoop comes close to it.' She sighed dreamily, staring up at the ceiling as her hat finally slipped off and dropped to the floor with a soft thump.

'I second that. I'd happily hand over my bat to do that to him again.' George agreed, Fred nodding beside him.

'I should've done that to Scrimgeour.' Harry said after another sip of eggnog.

Ginny tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, Harry watching intently as it slid from behind her ear back to cover her face almost immediately. She impatiently swept it back again, though this time it remained where she wanted it to be.

'Better yet, greet him next time you see him with a good old fist to the face.' She said with a smirk.

'There's always that.'

The snow was still falling, and Harry could see that Percy and the Minister's footprints had been almost completely obscured, only a faint imprint remained as the fresh layer blanketed them. His eyes swept over the scene in front of him, the twins and Ginny bantering back and forth; Mr and Mrs Weasley chatting with Lupin on the opposite side of the room; Bill and Fleur sitting on a cosy armchair with their hands entwined and Ron off clattering about somewhere in search of the game. His gaze fell back on Ginny, and the way the twinkling lights from the tree set her face in a golden glow.

Maybe it was a Merry-bloody-Christmas after all.


End file.
